


in any reality (it had to be you)

by cruellae (tinkabelladk)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M, Soulmates, but we know who it really is, everybody wants to be joker’s soulmate, p5 royal spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkabelladk/pseuds/cruellae
Summary: “Soulmates.” Maruki sounds very pleased with himself. “It’s a new feature of my reality. Each person in the world has someone, or multiple someones, to love.”“So now you’re controlling who we fuck,” Goro says, making it clear just how disgusted and annoyed the idea makes him. “Very benevolent of you.”Goro’s opinion is completely ignored as the room erupts into a frenzy of all the Phantom Thieves touching each other’s hands to see if any more of them are soulmates.Goro sighs, leaning against the row of lockers to watch the chaos.I am surrounded by idiots.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 38
Kudos: 597
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs





	1. Chapter 1

Goro lingers in the corner, watching as the team mills around in the squeaky clean, blinding white safe room in Maruki’s Palace. They talk quietly to each other, tending to minor injuries and stretching out sore muscles. 

Joker spends a few moments with each one, leaning in for a few encouraging words, clasping his gloved hand on someone’s shoulder, giving a quick smile before moving on. Finally, he finishes his round of the room and retreats to where Goro is waiting. 

“Nice work out there,” he murmurs, low and husky, and Goro pretends like the praise and the sound of Joker’s voice doesn’t send a thrill of heat through him. 

“You too,” Goro replies, cool and unaffected. “You were almost able to keep up.” 

“I did more than keep up. I—”

“Oh my god Ryuji, what are you doing?” Ann squeaks, pulling her bare hand out of Ryuji’s grasp. 

“I dunno!” Ryuji seems equally shaken, a tube of some sort of gel in his hand. He’s not wearing gloves either. “I was just gonna put some of this stuff on that little frostburn you got.” 

“But when you touched me, it was like…” Ann hesitates, her cheeks reddening. 

“I know. It was like sparks but soft. It felt kinda nice.” Ryuji’s voice, as always, carries through the din, and within a half-second Ryuji and Ann have the attention of everyone in the safe room. “Like, really nice.” 

“Ryuji,” Ann hisses. “Not so loud!” 

But she grabs for his hand anyway, and they stare at each other, puzzled. 

“Ain’t doin’ it now,” Ryuji says. 

“Do you like it?” Maruki’s disembodied voice comes from the speaker overhead. “It’s a new feature of my reality.” 

“What is?” Akira asks. 

“Soulmates.” Maruki sounds very pleased with himself. “Each person in the world has someone, or multiple someones, to love.” 

“So now you’re controlling who we fuck,” Goro says, making it clear just how disgusted and annoyed the idea makes him. “Very benevolent of you.” 

“What you do with your soulmate is entirely optional,” Maruki says. “I’m just clearing up misunderstandings.” 

“Bullshit,” Goro mutters, but his opinion is completely ignored as the room erupts into a frenzy of all the Phantom Thieves touching each other’s hands to see if any more of them are soulmates. 

Goro sighs, leaning against the row of lockers to watch the chaos. 

_ I am surrounded by idiots.  _

No one else turns out to have a soulmate in the safe room, sparing the group any more warm fuzzies. When the last one of his sycophants finally lets Joker go, most of them looking rather disappointed to not be a match, Goro breathes out a sigh of relief. 

Of course none of them would be Joker’s soulmate. None of them could possibly be his equal. 

Joker decides to call it a day then and there, which is probably smart as most of the teammates are completely distracted, speculating wildly about who their soulmate might be. They say their goodbyes at the entrance to the laboratory, Morgana in Haru’s big pink purse. 

As the Phantom Thieves all disperse, Akira turns to Goro and smiles. 

There’s  _ so much  _ in that smile. It’s shy and bitter and hopeful and sweet. It’s all the things that have happened to them since they first met less than a year ago. Together they have a longer and bloodier history than most adults twice their age. By rights, they should both be dead. 

But here they are. 

Akira holds out his hand, palm up like he’s making an offering. 

Goro clenches his hands into fists that draw the fabric of his black leather gloves tight around his fingers. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he says. 

“Scared?” Akira raises a challenging eyebrow. 

Goro huffs indignantly, pulling a glove off of his trembling fingers. He’s not sure what he’s more afraid of—that it won’t work, or that it will. 

“You want a soulmate who shot you in the head?” 

Akira meets his gaze, stormy gray, and his eyes flash like lightning. But he says nothing, just extends his hand. 

Goro presses his fingers tentatively against Akira’s palm. And he feels it, almost immediately. A warmth thrumming beneath his skin, pleasant lightning dancing up and down the veins of his arm. It only lasts for a few seconds, but is unmistakable. 

He stares at Akira as the sensation fades and all he can feel is the cold January air and the points of heat where their skin is still touching. 

He jerks his hand back, crumpling the glove in his fist. “I wonder how Maruki decides this bullshit. Did he do this just to piss me off? Because it really feels like it.” 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Akira says softly. “My feelings about you haven’t changed either.” 

Goro crosses his arms, feeling cold and exposed. “What do you want from me, Akira?” 

“Same thing I’ve always wanted.” Akira shrugs slightly. “Your attention. Your time. Your respect.” 

“You have all of that,” Goro says. He needs the conversation to end,  _ now.  _ Before he does something he can’t take back. “There’s no need for this “soulmates” bullshit.” 

“Right.” Akira looked down at his shoes, his expression carefully blank. “Sure. If that’s what you want.” 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Soulmates experience a reciprocal physical sensation the first time they make skin-to-skin contact. This sensation is generally reported to be pleasurable and of mild to medium intensity.  _

_ The nature of a soulmate bond varies from pair to pair, or among polyamorous groups. However, it is generally understood to be a loving connection that is deeper and more powerful than any non-soulbound relationship.  _

Akira sighs, closing his laptop. Wikipedia is full of information on soulmates, but none of it is all that helpful. Everyone else who’s suddenly discovered a soulmate is overcome with bliss. Ann and Ryuji are a prime example, doting on each other where before they were bickering. 

It’s past midnight when Goro calls, but Akira’s expecting it. There’s a tension between them he can feel even with miles of city separating them. 

“I’ve been thinking about this soulmates thing,” Goro says when Akira picks up, because he isn’t the kind of person who wastes time on “hello” or “goodbye.” 

“Yeah,” Akira says. “Me too.” 

“I wonder how Maruki decides who to assign to whom. Is it compatibility? Proximity? Does he have the whole trajectory of their life planned out?”

“I dunno,” Akira says, noncommittal. Like he hasn’t been googling soulmates for the past four hours. 

He isn’t about to say something like:  _ I’m pretty sure we’re soulmates because when you summoned Loki in the engine room of Shido’s ship I realized I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you.  _

“Proximity seems most likely,” Goro continues thoughtfully. “You’re the only person I really spend time with, so perhaps that’s why we became soulmates.” 

“What, we’re not compatible?” Akira says slyly, trying to pass it off as half a joke. 

He can’ t see Goro’s face, but somehow he can tell Goro is rolling his eyes.

“You’re compatible with almost everyone, so that hardly counts. And I’m not compatible with anyone.” 

“I think we’re not bad together,” Akira insists. “There’s an argument for compatibility.” 

“We are good together, darling,” Goro says, his voice a little gentler. “However even you aren’t so much of a masochist as to want more of my company than you already get.” 

Akira stares out the window imploringly at the moon.  _ Darling?  _ What the fuck. 

“What did you call me?” he asks. 

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line. 

“The really fucked up thing is that I don’t know who’s saying it,” Goro finally admits. “Do any of my feelings for you really belong to me? Or are they all because of Maruki’s actualization?” 

Akira swallows, his mouth dry and his heart lodged in his throat. “What. Uh, what feelings?” 

“Does it matter? I’m nobody’s fucking puppet.” 

“Right,” Akira says softly, pretending his heart isn’t being mercilessly crushed. “Look, it doesn’t have to come between us. We can still be friends, can’t we?” 

In the plaintive pitch of his voice he hears his own desperate fear that Goro is going to disappear again, that he’s going to lose the love of his life a second time. 

Goro huffs softly. “Nothing is going to be the same. Not for me. Not with the  _ possibility  _ of something like that.” 

“What...what does that mean?” 

“I’m sorry, Akira. But I can’t accept a reality where I’m being manipulated. Not even for you.” 

The line goes dead. 

Goro doesn’t pick up when Akira calls him back. He doesn’t respond to texts. He doesn’t show up at the Palace for infiltration the next morning. He doesn’t come to the jazz club. 

He vanishes as easily as a ghost, and Akira is left with nothing yet again. 


	3. Chapter 3

Akira’s broken heart makes him reckless, and he tears through the Palace at a manic pace, splitting the group into three or even four parts to clear each area faster. He scouts ahead on his own, or with only Morgana by his side, and ignores all of the others when they chide him for carelessness. 

What does any of it matter if Goro is gone? 

Even when he gets separated away from the group, cornered by a Belial and two Alilats, Akira barely cares that he’s losing. Sure, it hurts when an Alilat drives an icicle deep into the muscle of his shoulder, when the Belial cuts a deep, bloody gash across his chest. 

But at the same time it’s almost a relief. 

He feels like he hasn’t stopped fighting since he first came to Tokyo. And he rose to face every challenge that was thrown at him, from Kamoshida to Yaldabaoth. But now he’s starting to think this is all there will ever be for him. It’s hard to summon a spirit of rebellion when the bad guy is just some scruffy guy in a lab coat who wants people to be happy.

Why can’t it be someone else’s turn to save the world? 

He needs Goro, who always pushed him, always challenged him to be stronger and smarter and  _ better _ . Without his rival, it’s hard to care if he wins or loses. 

The Belial advances on him, the sharp, gleaming ends of the trident pointed at Akira. He’s on his back, struggling to get to his feet. 

It would be so easy just to let it end here. And then he wouldn’t have to keep doing this anymore. 

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” A wild yell from behind the shadow, and a red blade descends, cleaving the Belial neatly in two. “Megidolaon!” 

The sweeping spell catches the two Alilats in its dazzling brightness, burning them away to nothing. And then Goro is on his knees, scowling down at Akira. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits. “Cast a fucking heal.” 

“You’re here,” Akira murmurs, as he lets the spell wash over him, knitting his flesh back together. Goro is blurry but  _ here.  _ “I missed you.” 

Goro mumbles something under his breath, then wraps his arms around Akira’s waist and hefts him onto his shoulder like he barely weighs anything at all. 

“I can walk,” Akira protests mildly. “I healed myself.” 

But Goro makes no move to put him down until they reach the nearest safe room. Then Goro sets him on the table and turns away to lock the door. He takes his helmet off and sets it aside, leaning back against the door and glaring at Akira. 

“You have good timing,” Akira says weakly. 

Goro’s silence is heavy, dark as storm clouds. 

“I, uh. It’s good to see you again,” Akira tries. “I meant it when I said I’d missed you.” 

“Did you miss me?” Goro arches a brow. “Or has Maruki’s actualization manipulated you into thinking you missed me?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Akira says, as hurt and startled as if Goro had actually hit him. “Goro, I thought you  _ died  _ on Shido’s ship. I mourned you. When you came back on Christmas Eve and I saw you were alive again...you barely even said hi to me and it was still the best day of my life.” 

Goro studies him carefully. “You remember that I died and our confrontation on the ship. Your experience of the past has not been altered. And you still feel this way?” 

Akira looks away. That cool, analytical gaze makes him feel raw and exposed. 

“Like I said,” he mumbles. “My feelings for you never changed.” 

“I...believe you,” Goro says, after a long silence. 

“What about you?” Akira asks. “What did you feel for me...before?” 

Goro leans against the door, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the pale wall. “I suppose I would say I wanted you. Your body, of course, but also your mind, your heart. I wanted to possess every part of you and pin each piece to my wall like a butterfly collection.” 

That’s pretty weird, and probably violent. But also kind of flattering, because Akira has always wanted to catch Goro’s attention and hold it. 

“I knew I could never have you that way,” Goro said, “so I convinced myself that killing you would be the next best thing. Your last moments would be mine, your last breath.” 

He sighs, looking away. “I was lying to myself, of course. I was bereft when I thought you were dead—I was convinced I had destroyed the only beautiful thing left in the world. You gave my life so much meaning simply by existing, and when you were gone...” 

“I know what you mean,” Akira says. “I almost lost my mind when I thought you were dead.” 

He gets up and crosses the room, standing very close to Goro, close enough to reach up and touch his cheek if he wanted. Close enough to kiss. 

“Do you still want me?” he asks. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Goro says sharply. 

“This is real.” Akira wants to touch Goro, but holds back. Too afraid of rejection to bridge that final gap. “I promise that what we have is real.”

Goro brushes his thumb cautiously over Akira’s cheekbone, then slides his fingers gently into Akira’s hair. 

“I’m sorry I left you,” Goro murmurs, then presses his lips to Akira’s. 

The kiss starts out slow and tender, but quickly deepens, and Goro flips them around so he can pin Akira to the door and shove his thigh between Akira’s legs. 

“I love you,” Akira murmurs between kisses, Goro’s hot breath against his lips. “I’m never going to love anyone else like I love you. That’s why we’re soulmates. It wouldn’t work with anyone else.” 

Goro pulls back, his eyes—the strangest, most compelling shade of deep russet red—searching Akira’s face. 

“I could never love anyone else,” he says, cool and matter of fact. “You’re right. No matter what reality we’re in, it has to be you.”


End file.
